


you swept me up like a riptide

by MessedUpMessages



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, i consider them more like guidelines than rules, mild songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:25:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessedUpMessages/pseuds/MessedUpMessages
Summary: that college au no one asked for





	you swept me up like a riptide

**Author's Note:**

> losely based on the lyrics of riptide by vance joy  
> i really like this one if i do say so myself  
> i think its done for now?  
> i hav ealot more planned but i have severe longfic writers block so ill get to it eventually

I was scared of dentists and the dark   
I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations   
Oh, all my friends are turning green   
You're the magician's assistant in their dreams

 

Lance slicked his hair back and checked his reflection in the grimy bathroom mirror, making sure his navy blue suit was straight.

“You done in there, hunk?” he said, knocking on the nearest stall. He flashed finger guns and a suave grin at his reflection as nauseated groans and gagging noises ensued from the plastic wall.

“Uh..” hunk gagged again. “I dunno man, you might want to go on without me… i might be a while.”

Lance wrinkled his nose in distaste but shrugged. “Sorry buddy. Alright, i’ll see you later.”

He left the bathroom and entered the next room.

It was a massive ball chamber, filled with people in formal dress. The banner above the head table read,  _ welcome, garrison freshmen! _

The prestigious college was having its orientation dance, which was in reality a time to earn your way into the teacher's respects and good graces, something almost everyone was doing.

Lance had had no luck. Maybe it was something about his face, but the rest of the instructors seemed to distrust him on sight. If he was completely honest, it kinda hurt.

But he had no time to dwell on this because a short girl with caramel hair, glasses, and an emerald dress suddenly ran up to him and hung off his elbow, chattering excitedly. “Lance!” she shrieked. He tried to smile for his friend.

“Whats up pidge?”

She grinned. “Oh, nothing much. I only got to talk to commander iverson for like, ten minutes. He said i can join the advanced science program!”

Lance actually smiled for real. “That’s great pidge! I wish i could charm the teachers that easily.”

Pidge waved off his concerns. “You’re just not trying hard enough.”

She danced away, but lance stayed were he was, hands in pockets awkwardly. he felt overwhelmed, in this room of glittering deities with effortless people skills.

As a frisky, lightstepping song started up from the dj in the corner, the sound throbbing in his ears, lance made his way over to the drinks table, keeping half a eye out for hunk re emerging from the bathroom and another eye out for approaching teachers. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, more like the teachers were  _ definitely _ avoiding him. He could have sworn they were telepathic.

He filled a cheap plastic solo cup with punch from a glass bowl, concentrating on the tinkle of the metal ladle against the curve of the bowl, and the rush of the tangerine colored liquid in his cup. He took a sip, turning to put his back to the table, watching the room over the rim of the cup.

The room was hot, stiflingly so, and the drink was so sweet it only served to make him more thirsty. The new song had called several more teens onto the floor to dance, and they were whirling and whooping away, screeching with laughter.

Lance couldn’t join them.

The only two people he knew here were pidge and hunk. Hunk was in the bathroom, puking his guts out from a rotten shrimp he had eaten at their celebratory dinner a few days ago, and pidge was out there somewhere talking up the teachers. He could do neither. Even the numerous girls cluttering the polished floor seemed to avoid him, as if he was distasteful.

Oh well. All he could hope for was that the next four years weren’t like this.

 

Pidge danced away from lance, out on a mission. She found her target next to the dj booth, doubled over laughing at something one of his nerdy friends had said. Grimacing at the pounding music, she charged over and punched him in the arm.

“Matt!” she hollered over the music. He looked down and grinned. 

“Katie, what’s up sis?”

Pidge punched him again, but with less malice. He rubbed his arm moodily. “I got into the advanced science program, you moron.”

Matt grinned even wider. “That so cool! Maybe you'll be in some classes with me then!”

She shrugged, looking around the gym. “I doubt it. You're two grades above me.”

“He shook his head. “Nah, you're really good. I bet you'll skip a grade, at least. Anyway, have you seen hunk?”

“No actually, i haven't. When i was talking to lance a few minutes ago he wasn't there.”

Mat frowned. “Maybe i'll check the bathroom. I'll tell him about you and the program.”he trotted off, yelling over his shoulder, “congrats again, nerd!”

Pidge smiled. Matt was a weirdo. Then again, she wasn't much better.

 

Hunk retched again as the door to the bathroom opened, letting a rush of warm air and the roar of voices. It squealed close and footsteps made there way to his stall.

“Hunk, is that you?”

Hunk made a weak groaning noise.”yeah matt, it's me. Whats up?” 

“Not much. Just thought i'd stop by and see how you were. Did you hear that pidge got into the advanced science?”

“Really?” hunk tried to stand up but was crippled by a new set of spasms. “That’s great. I would come out and say congratulations, but i might nie if i do, so tell her for me, will you?”

Matt smiled, even though no one was there to see it. “Sure hunk. Hope you feel better soon.”

  
Oh   
Oh and they come unstuck   
  


Lance drifted for a long time, trying and failing to start conversations. None of them lasted for longer than a minute. Eventually he found himself gliding out the huge glass doors in the back and stepping out onto the wide patio, the pergola strunk with rows of amber colored lights. There were wrought iron benches sprinkled here and there, and lance found his way to one of them, stretching out his long legs with a sigh of resignation. The inky sky was jet black, no trace of any stars due to light pollution, but the crickets in the tiny strip of lawn were kicking up a cacophony.

Other that that, it was silent.

 

Lady, running down to the riptide   
Taken away to the dark side   
I wanna be your left hand man   
I love you when you're singing that song and   
I got a lump in my throat 'cause   
You're gonna sing the words wrong

 

Half a hour later, a boy in a dark, blood red suit came out of the hall and sat down on a bench a few feet away from lance, and stared up at the sky. Lance shot a look at him oddly. “Don't like people either?”

The boy in the red suit shrugged unhappily. “Not really my scene. But...it's not the best night for me either way.”

Lance nodded sympathetically. “I get it. The teachers don't like my face.”

The boy knotted his hands. “Well, it's not really that. It's just… i don't know. It's complicated.”

Lance patted the bench next to him. “I've got time. Come tell me.”

The boy watched him strangely, a calculating look. Then he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets and sat down next to him awkwardly. 

 

There’s this movie that I think you'll like   
This guy decides to quit his job and heads to New York City   
This cowboy's running from himself   
And she's been living on the highest shelf

 

Half an hour earlier

 

Keith nervously fiddled with the sleeves of his deep scarlet suit, fixing imperceptible flaws repeatedly. Shiro set a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. 

“Relax, bro. You're just gonna go in there and talk to some teachers, then you can leave. It'll be fine.”

Keith wasn't consoled, taking a deep breath and glaring at the huge door. “Shiro, you know i don't do well in social situations.”

Shiro smiled ruefully, ruffling his brothers hair. “I know buddy.”

“At least there's one teacher i won't have to convince of my competence.”

Shiros smile melted. “Listen...about that…”

Keith tensed at hs tone, bracing for whatever bad news was about to be thrown at him.

“I've decided to quit the garrison. There's a university up in NYC that is really good- they said they'd give me a scholarship for a masters if i go and teach there.”

Keith's eyes flashed to shiro. “You're leaving?”

“Moving. To new york.” shiro couldn't disguise the excitement in his voice. It wasn't that he disliked his post at the garrison, it was just that it was stagnant. He could never climb in the ranks. This scholarship gave him the chance to do what the garrison couldn't. And if he had to leave his little brother… it wasn’t ideal, but keith was starting college. He needed to be able to function without someone watching his back all the time.

Not that he was abandoning keith. They were family. He would never do that.

Keith’s face fell, hollowing out into despair. “Oh.” his voice was tiny, lost among the clamour and cacophony of the party inside.

“Just…” shiro blew out a breath. “Keith, we’ll talk more after this, alright? It’ll be ok, but right now you need to go make an impression on some people other than me and my cat.”

Keith grimaced, still not quite forgiving shiro, and put one hand to the handle. At the last second the almost twenty year old darted back and gave shiro one of his rare hugs. His brother grinned, patting keith’s back lightly. 

“It’ll be fine bud. Go make me proud.”

Keith pulled away gruffly and entered the hall, slamming the door behind him. Shiro watched him go fondly.

His phone buzzed in the back of his jeans. He pulled it out, reading the text that had just come through.

 

**Did you tell him yet?**

 

Shiro frowned, then replied.

 

_ Yeah, i told him _

 

**How did he take it?**

 

_ Not...not well to say the least _

 

**I'm sorry, Shiro.**

**…**

**What about Adam?**

 

_ No allura. I haven’t told him yet _

 

**You need to.**

 

_ I know. I'm going to now _

 

**Alright. Good luck.**

 

Shiro put his phone away and stepped towards the street, raising an arm for a taxi. Inside, he told the driver his destination then sat in silence.

The taxi stopped fifteen minutes later outside of a starbucks, it's front glowing with artificial lights. Shiro paid the driver then went in, heading for the table in the corner occupied by a tall man with thick rimmed glasses in garrison teacher uniform, brown hair messy from habitually running his hands through it. A smile was instantly grown over shiro’s face as he slid into the seat across from the man, who put his cup down and smiled back.

“Hey.” the man said. Shiro laid his hand over his. 

“Hey. i need to talk to you.”

Adam gave him a look. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

Shiros smile flickered. “Listen… there’s a school in new york that is offering me a scholarship and a job. I decided to take it.”

Adam retracted his hand, hurt. “You’re leaving?” 

“Yes-but-well, it's not because of you, or keith, or-or anyone else. Don't think that. It's just the best opportunity i've had in a long time. It's the possibility of something better than the garrison.”

Adam wrapped his hands around his steaming mug. “Then i'm coming with you.”

Shiro looked up sharply. “What? no - i can't ask you to -”

Adam met his eyes with a steely, steady gaze, a glint of a challenge in his face. “I'm coming. Unless you don't want me to come with you…”

Shiro backpedalled rapidly. “Of course not. It's just, i didn't want to ask you to uproot yourself for me, for a job.”

Adam looked affronted. “I'd follow you anywhere shiro. I'm coming.”

They lapsed into silence, shiros eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you...and i would too.”

They smiled at each other. 

  
Oh   
Oh and they come unstuck

 

Keith blew out a breath and stepped inside the hall, delving into the mayhem of the social gathering. Instantly he was swept away by the pulsing tide of glowing dresses and richly tailored suits. He felt like an ant, complete with the red, leathery skin, but missing the impenetrable exoskeleton. He made an effort, he really did, he came up to several dapper dressed teachers, their older faces a spotlight of maturity in the sea of rowdy teens, and tried to talk to them. He was always brushed off in favor of the brighter, flashier students, their hair braided or brushed in perfect lines or twisted into flawless curls, wrists and earlobes and necks hung with gold and silver and fancy stones.

Keith would have normally persisted, interjecting until he was noticed. But with what shiro had just dumped onto him, he was not on his game. He was disoriented and distracted, head spinning. Slowly he found his way to the back of the hall, to glass doors he didn't even know were there, and went out onto the veranda.

There was a boy in a blue suit on one of the benches.

His scruffy brown hair was tousled, evidently supposed to be slicked back, but had lost the neat trimness. It was very different than everyone else's. For some reason, that mundane fact made keith like him. 

Keith wandered over to the bench next to him, watching the sky. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the blue boy look at him strangely.

“Don't like people either?” he asked.

Keith shrugged unhappily, mind mulling over what shiro had told him. “Not really my scene. But...it's not the best night for me either way.”

The boy nodded sympathetically. “I get it. The teachers don't like my face.”

Keith knotted his hands in his lap. “Well, it's not really that. It's just… i don't know. It's complicated.”

The boy patted the bench next to him. “I've got time, and i'm not exactly a stranger to complications. Come tell me.”

Keith eyed him, sending him a calculating look. Then he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets and sat down next to the awkwardly. 

“It's a long story.” he warned. The boy gave him a lopsided smile. 

“Well, one of my friends is off schmoozing teachers successfully, unlike me, and my other one if puking his guts out into a toilet bowl. Like i said, i've got time.”

Keith sighed. “Alright.

Today my brother, who is one of the teachers here, told me he was quitting his job and moving to new york…”

Lady, running down to the riptide   
Taken away to the dark side   
I wanna be your left hand man   
  


Two years later

The bell on the cafe door rang shrilly, letting in the sounds of a city in full rush hour flux in for a moment before it shut. A man in black jeans and a baggy grey, woven wool sweater strolled over to a two person table by the window and sat down, brushing his black hair away from his eyes.

“Hey shiro.” he said, smiling. Shiro smiled back.

“Hey little bro. Long time no see.”

Keith scowled, but it was evidently put on. “I told you not to call me that.”

“And yet, i don't think you actually mind.” shiro gave him an appraising once over. “Well, you look healthy. Whoever he is, he’s good for you.”

Keith looked at him sharply. “How did you-”

“Know? Well, i like to think i know  _ you _ pretty well. I know i got you that sweater for your seventeenth birthday and you despised it, and never wore it despite everyone saying you look great in it. I know then that someone else must have packed your clothes, leaving you no choice but to wear it, which begs the question, who? You never let  _ anyone _ touch your clothes, nor the rest of your stuff, so they must be close to you.” he narrowed his gaze. “And lastly, you came in smiling. You never used to smile like that. Thus, i deem whoever he is, good for you.”

Keith had been shaking his head, but it reached a frantic level. “No, you’re wrong. Hes- we’re not- i'm not dating La-anyone.”

Shiro raised one eyebrow. “Really?” he drawled the r in a sceptical tone, then leaned back on his seat. “Anyway, i haven't seen you in two years. Tell me about school. Have you made any friends?”

Keith gave him the stink eye. He didn't believe for one moment that shiro had dropped the topic, but it wouldn't hurt to tell him about pidge and hunk...and lance. 

“Alright. I've got three friends.” he said finally. Shiros jaw dropped almost comically. 

“Three?! Who are you and what have you done with keith?” 

Keith whacked his arm good naturedly. “Shut up,” he said. “Anyway, so first off there's this really weird girl named pidge. She's like, really smart, and so is hunk, but their different kinds of smart. She's all math and number crunching, and her brothers the same way, but i don't really know him. She's also like insanely short. It's scary. Her parents are pretty high up in the garrison. Then there’s hunk. He’s tall compared to pidge, and he’s more into the practical math part. He rooms with pidge’s brother, but hangs out in me and lances room eighty percent of the time.  

Then...there's lance. He's my roommate. He's from this place in cuba called varadero beach, but he is a total city kid. It's weird. Hes-hes weird. Well, not really. He's pretty cool, and occasionally he will stay up all night and marathon the vampire diaries with me. And supernatural. I got him totally hooked on that one.”

Shiro began to grin, as if he had found a treasure chest.  “And we have found our mysterious clothes-packer.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, i know about it now, there’s nothing to hide. Besides, i could just steal your phone.”

“This is blackmail.”

“This is family keith. Get used to it.”

Keith sighed in resignation. “Fine. he packed my clothes. However, we are  _ not _ dating.”

“I'm sensing an unvoiced  _ but _ here…”

“But i would like to be.”

Shiro didn't reply, simply gauging keith’s emotional state with his eyes, something you can only do after almost 18 years of living together. “Have you asked him?” he said softly. Keith bit his lip.

“...no.”

“You need to.”

Keith shook his head. “No. We’re friends. I haven't had friends in a long time, and i want to keep them, not scare them away with stupid...emotions.”

“Judging by what you said, you’re not gonna. You have to be pretty dedicated to a friendship to marathon the vampire diaries. Even i can't do that.”

“Yeah, i know.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence, broken by keith a few moments later. 

“Enough about me. Tell me about adam. And your job. And how’s allura?” he said. Shiro smiled.

“Alluras great. She’s happy to have some other family members up here. Adams great. We have a flat in manhattan, shockingly. And the job…” he laughed. “The best thing that ever happened to me. Except for adam, obviously.”

 

One month later

Pidge ran with barely contained excitement through the halls of the garrison college, a test paper clutched tightly in one hand. She barreled into a dorm room, leaping onto hunks stomach where he law on his bed.

“HUNK!” she shrieked. Hunk sat up with a jolt, rubbing his eyes blearily.

“Pidge? What’s wrong?”

She waved her hand impatiently, flashing the paper in his face. “Nothing’s wrong, nerd. It's just that i got the highest scores out of the senior science class!”

Hunk sent her a pointed look. “And you’re calling  _ me _ nerd?”

She rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. You’re the one who doodles fucking spaceship schematics on the margins of your ecology notebook.”

Picking up a pillow, hunk cuffed her over the head. “Fine. we’re both nerds. Who else have you shown?”

“No one. I was on my way to tell keith and lance, but i figured i'd stop by here first.”

Hunk touched a hand to his heart. “Aww, thank you. Now go tell the other nerds.”

Pidge sniffed as if offended. “they are not true nerds,” she said, leaving. 

 

She found herself outside the other twos dorm room after a minute or two, pressing her ear to the door. Inside she could hear the warm sounds of friendly bickering, a common enough sound in the room of the two friends.

Pushing open the door she stepped inside, hollering over the flurry of miscellaneous items being thrown across the room. “Hey!” she yelled. “Morons!”

The tirade stopped, and two heads poked up from behind mounds of blankets that were being used as defensive walls. One was pale, with violet eyes and a halo of midnight black hair. The others tan skin held a constellation of freckles, short brown hair, and blue eyes the color of the sky.

“Yeah?” lance chirped. “What do you want pidge?”

She held up the test paper proudly. “Highest score in the senior science class!”

Keith grinned, a rare thing. “Thats awesome! Congratulations!” lance smiled and flashed her a thumbs up as well.

“We still on for tonight?” he asked. 

“Obviously.” said pidge. “Bar hopping is great. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Keith threw a pillow at lance, unprovoked. “I completely agree. But lightweight here…” he sent a look at lance, who stuck his tongue out.

“I'm not a lightweight,” he protested. “My palate is...refined. Also, you do know we have classes tomorrow? I can't be hungover.”

Pidge scoffed and turned to go. “Whatever lightweight. Just be in the parking lot by 8.”

She shut the door on lances indignant protests. 

 

Several hours later

Two teenage boys jumped out of their dorm window and hit the much with a soft crunch. Keith’s legs tangled with lances longer ones and they hit the ground, whispering in a ferocious argument.

“Dude, what was that?”

“I don't know, maybe you should  _ watch where you’re fucking going! _ ” 

“Whatever lance. Just get to the parking lot.”

They staggered to their feet and took off towards the tarmack through the bushes, lit by orange streetlights. A black minivan suddenly pulled up on the curb, the sliding door opening as it came to a slow stop. Pidge grinned impishly and leaned out, extending a hand. 

“No time to explain losers, get in the van. We got 6 bars i want to try and three hours to kill. Let's get this show on the road.”

Keith nudged her hand aside. “Sure. but knowing lance he’ll be oblivious after the first one.”

Hunk snickered from the driver’s seat as pidge shut the door, gesturing for him to drive. “He’s already oblivious.”

Lance looked up from his seat in the back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing.”

 

“Alright gang, any memorable first words on this glorious night?” pidge asked, raising her shot glass to clink with the others. Keith frowned at the honey colored liquid.

“Shiro would not be proud.” he said before knocking it back. Pidge cackled.

“Just don't tell him then.” lance said, contemplating his own shot. “Here's to not being a lightweight.” he drained the tiny glass.

Keith snorted. “What am i supposed to say when he takes me for my first drink and i'm chugging like a pro?”

“Pretend. Fake the burn.” pidge suggested. “Or, you ask the bartender to put pepper in it or something.”

Hunk looked at her disapprovingly. “Why do you know this?”  

“I've had lots of practice.” with those words pidge drank her shot, then turned to hunk. “You’re the only one left. Come on.” 

“Ok...umm. Let see-oh! I got it. It's perfect.” he raised his glass to his lips. “To pidge, who somehow got the highest score in science!”

Pidge punched his arm, nearly making him spit up the alcohol. “I resent that statement. But thanks.”

“Anytime.” 

 

I love you when you're singing that song and   
I got a lump in my throat 'cause   
You're gonna sing the words wrong

 

In the two years that keith and lance had become friends, starting with that night at the meeting hall, they had done a wide variety of things. They had been dorm mates for three semesters, gone to countless bars with pidge and hunk, grown closer emotionally, confided their deepest, darkest secrets(or most of them), gotten in trouble with teachers for staying up past curfew, and excitedly waited all morning outside the main office for test scores.

They were unconventional friends who pushed each other to the limits on a daily basis.

But there was one thing that lance was never allowed to do under keith’s watch. Nor anyone elses, for that matter.

And that was karaoke.

 

“Hey guys, wheres lance?” pidge shouted over the roar and laughter of the crowd at their fourth bar, the margarita in her hand threatening to spill, the lime slice wobbling precariously. Hun lifted his head off the table, scanning the room blearily.

“Uhhh… i saw him when i went to the bathroom? I'm not really sure...”

Pidge rolled her eyes, a motion that, when inbreated, was accompanied by a toss of her head, hair flying. “Yeah, but hunk, that was like half an hour ago. Where is he  _ now _ ?”

Hunk shrugged, turning his head slowly to the third member of their party, whose face was twisted into his usual frown. He was nursing a bottle, sweater sleeves wrapped over his hands.

“Keith buddy,” pidge said, sliding into the booth next to him. “Have you seen lance?”

“...yes.”

“Where? Cause, we need to find him so we can go to the next place. It's called the red lion.”

Keith furrowed his brows, thinking hard. you could almost see the gears turning. “Yeah, i've seen him. I sleep in the same room as him. He’s very…” he trailed off, searching for the right word. Pidge and hunk watched him expectantly. He hiccuped, then lifted his slightly cross eyed violet eyes to their faces. “Pretty.” he slurred tiredly.

Pidge sniggered, then spilled her margarita with a yelp of surprise. Hunk leaned over to help her sop it up, and in the meantime keith slunk out of the booth, walking in a very wobbly line, still clutching his drink.

He stopped, because he saw someone.

A head of brown hair, a flash of blue eyes. They were clambering onto the stage, taking hold of the microwave with shaking hands, a lopsided grin on his face. Maybe it was the alcohol making him delirious, or the late hour, but whatever the case, whatever the reason, keith felt butterflies hatch in his stomach and something pound in his chest. His eyes were glued on lance as the boy swayed on his feet on the stage, about to send the world crashing down around keith’s shoulders.

 

Lance felt invincible. The world was shaking, gyrating around him, rocking like a boat on a stormy sea, but he felt indestructible. He was on fire. He could do anything without any repercussions.

Then he saw the karaoke machine being set up, and a thought sparked in his mind, much like the starting gun firing in a race, kickstarting an avalanche. His liqueur addled brain made a decision. He loved karaoke. 

He was gonna do it.

For some reason, as he climbed the three steps -that seemed like a mountain- that led to the stage, a worrisome thought niggled at him. It was something along the lines of pidge telling him that there was no more singing after the last time… but he couldn’t really recall all the words. So he ignored it, and took hold of the microphone. The words to a song came on the screen. He couldn’t remember it's name, so when the countdown finished, the music starting, he just started belting out the words as if his life depended on it.

 

Pidges head snapped up to the sound of a familiar, off key voice singing journey's, ‘don't stop believing’ at the top of their lungs. A growl built in her throat, cutting through the haze of alcohol shrouding her thoughts.

“Lance!” she shouted, shoving away from the table, leaving a bewildered hunk, who watched her go with the gaze of someone who thinks they should know whats going on, but doesn't.

Pidge had almost made it to the stage when she ran into keith. Literally. He was swaying to the music, soundlessly mouthing the words in earnest with a dazed, glazed look on his face despite the rowdy populace of the bar. He turned and seemed to notice pidge.

“O-oh.” he breathed in a stage whisper. “Hello small one.” 

Pidge ignored this, standing on tiptoes to look into his face. “Are you feeling alright keith?”

Keith's lips spread in a weird, twisted smile. “Fine. i'm fine. But, have you seen the person singing?” he leaned down so he could whisper furtively in pidges ear. “He's so pretty. He looks like lance. But we told lance not to sing anymore, so it can't be him.”

Pidge couldn't believe this. And keith said lance was the lightweight, the hypocrite. “You're right keith. It is lance. And we did tell him not to sing anymore. So are you going to help me get him?”

“Sure. he’s too pretty to let other people see him. I want him to be allllll mine.”

“Oh my god…”

 

Keith supposed, later, that the Red Lion was a nice pub. But if he was being honest, he couldn’t remember a thing about the surroundings. He was too busy trying to keep his eyes off lance, while simultaneously luring him away from the pack of girls he always seemed to have around. As the night dragged on he became more and more aware of lance and less and less aware of the copious amounts of alcohol flooding his systems. He lost count of how many drinks he had had, and began to flirt openly with lance, to the extent that pidge, ever the levelheaded drunkard, dragged him outside into the night to cool off, and to give him a stern talking to.

“Keith if you don't want to do something you will regret the next day, you should really stop drinking.” To emphasise her point she pulled the bottle cradled in his hands from him and threw it away. 

He frowned sadly at the trash can, as if willing the bottle to return. “What would i do?”

“I don't know keith. Something only a drunk emos mind would come up with. Or maybe you’d accidentally tell lance something you would rather him  _ not _ know.”

He looked up at her with childlike innocence. “But i tell lance eeeeverything.”he giggled, something so unlike him that pidge actually feared for his mental instability.

She looked down her nose at him. “Are you sure about that?”

“Weeeeeeell…” he looked around nervously, then whispered, “can you keep a secret?”

Pidge grinned. “Of course.” 

“Ok, um...i don't think we’re gonna be able to go to class tomorrow.” 

“Is that so?”

He blinked up at her owlishly. “Um, also, i think i like lance.”

“That’s what i was looking for.” pidge said, rocking back on her heels. “Alright, keith, you need to stay out here and dry out for a while, ok? It's probably not very emotionally safe for you to be in the same room as lance right now.”

Keith shrugged. “Ok.” he pulled his knees up onto the bench with him and wrapped his arms around them. He rested his head on his arms and shut his eyes.

Trusting that he wouldn’t run away or something crazy, pidge went back inside to tend to hunk, who was now in a booth sobbing uncontrollably about a spilled drink. On her way to him she came across lance, who was frowning slightly.

“Hey pidge…” he said slowly, evidently trying to form proper sentences. “Seen have you keith?” he frowned deeper. “No, that’s not right..”

Pidge patted his shoulder sympathetically. “You’ll get it eventually. And...no. i haven’t seen keith.”

Lance thanked her and left. Hed find him eventually, pidge knew that, but hopefully it would be long enough for keith to collect his thoughts coherently.

 

Lance wandered around the seething pub for about thirty seconds before he realized that keith wasn't there. He immediately went on a beeline for the door.

He stepped out and saw the dark shape on the bench, hunched in the orange glow, the chatter of a crowd behind them he got a sense of deja vu.

He went over to keith, sitting down beside him. They didn't say anything, the beginnings of headaches and hangovers starting to claw at their skull. Finally keith said something, in the voice of someone who had thought long and hard about the wording of their sentences, despite the haze of liquor.

“Lance… do you mind if i talk about feelings?”

Lance leaned his head on the frozen metal of the bench. “Sssure. I don't mind. What kind of emotions?”

Keith looked like he was concentrating extremely hard. “Like, how you feel about someone. Those kind of emotions.”

“Hmmm… like liking someone?”

“Theoretically.”

“That's an awfully big word. I'm afraid i don't exactly have the cranial capacity to calculate such… a big vocab word right now.”

“And yet you can say that last sentence? I call foul.”

Keith quieted for a moment. “But yea, i guess. Like liking someone.”

“Oh. huh.” lance looked confused. “We should talk about that. I think there's something like that that i feel. I should probably talk about it too.” he frowned. “There's not much to say actually. I like you, and i have for a while. I'm probably gonna regret this in the morning, and i can already feel the beginnings of a hangover. But yeah. That’s how i feel. What about you?”

Keith's brain backfired, gunning like a car. Driving at sixty miles an hour, but not in motion. “Um…” was all he could get through his lips. “Uhhh...yeah. Um. yeah. I...i like you too.”

“Oh,” said lance. He leaned forward, unperturbed by keith's wide eyes, and kissed him.

It only lasted a split second before lance made a sick noise and pulled away, leaning over the bench and throwing up on the ground. He settled back with a mumbled ‘sorry’.

There was a weighty silence, both boys breathing audibly, then keith suddenly felt his eyelids drooping despite the electrifying contact with lance. The next thing he knew, everything was black. He was sinking into the cold, embracing depths of blissful sleep.

 

Keith woke in his dorm the next morning, with no memory of how he got there. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep after spilling his last secret to lance.

Then...then kissing him.

He tried to move a hand, but a wave of nausea caused him to groan and squeeze his eyes shut. There was a throbbing pulse at the black of his skull that he slowly became aware of as he tried to sit up. He had just swung his feet over the edge of his bed, no clear destination in mind, when a voice moaned from the other side of the room. 

“Ow.” 

Keith was as motionless as a stone. The headache snarled, fended off by a momentary flash flood of adrenaline. The voice quieted for a moment, then branched out cautiously. “Keith?”

He waited a long moment before replying. “Yeah?”

“...if you want, we can pretend that it didn't happen. Or, at least until we’ve had coffee and tylenol. Then we’re talking. But we’re gonna need each others help to get out of here, cuz right now i kinda feel smashed, which is probably because i am.”

Keith was silent. “Fine.” he said at last. “Ok.”

“Great.” lance groaned. “I'm gonna sit up, and i hope you will too, and on the count of three we’re gonna go for the door. Slowly.”

Keith swung his legs over the edge of the bed, fighting a fresh wave of pain. 

“One, two,” lance was saying, and then the world was spinning and keith was on his feet. Everything was bucking and swirling, and his head felt like someone was driving a hot poker through it from behind. He staggered, then warm hands-lances fingers- were flickering along the length of his arm. He flinched, and the hand retreated for a second. Keith lifted his face to lances, eyes have closed against the penetrating light of the sun. 

He was beautiful. Despite being utterly exhausted, hungover, and smelling awful- a mix of vomit and sour grapes- keith found that familiar something in his chest beating like a bird straining to free itself. 

He shoved the emotions away, offering his arm back to lance, whose face what had briefly fallen brightened incrementally.

“Come on.” keith said gruffly. Let's go cure our hangovers. Maybe we can make it to iversons class this afternoon.”

Lance snorted in derision as they shuffled towards the door, then immediately regretted it as a flash of agony split from his temple. “Yeah, i doubt that's happening.”

Keith found the cool silver door handle and twisted it, pulling the door open. They stepped into the hall to find- 

“Pidge?” keith said, shocked. “How are you not dying of a hangover?”

She smirked, stirring the starbucks coffee in her hand. “I have some very precise measurements for how much alcohol my body can take without getting a debilitating headache the next day.”

“In other words,” hunk interjected from where he sat by the wall, “she gets sozzled so often she doesn't feel it.”

“That's not true. Maybe. Anyway, we figured you two would be up around now, so we brought you some stale powdered donuts i found in starbucks, two gallons of water, some very black coffee, and a bottle of tylenol. Since you’re never prepared after we do this.”

Lance reached semi blindly for the coffee thermos hunk extended, cradling it like a child. “Thank you both so much. We don't know what we would do without you.”

Pidge scowled as keith took his thermos as well, sliding down tiredly next to hunk, trying to move his head as little as possible. “You’d better be grateful. Me and hunk had to lift both your drunk asses though your fucking dorm window because you both blacked out. And we weren’t exactly in our right minds either.”

Lance sat down too, hissing as his head made contact with the wall. “Believe me, i am grateful.”

Hunk wordlessly passed the bag of krispy kreme powdered donut holes to keith, who tore into them ravenously. Lance nabbed a few and dunked them in his coffee, speaking through a white dusted mouthful. “Hey, you know, it would be reeeeally good for our headaches if you left us alone for like… i don't know… five minutes?”

Pidge narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “Hmmm...” then something seemed to clock and she grinned. “Oh! Oh.. yes, hunk, let's go leave them be for a little while, leave the tylenol, they deserve it.” 

She dragged him away, protesting. Lance looked over at keith, who had frozen, a donut halfway to his mouth. He shrugged, a careful, slow movement with his migraine. “What? I figured we should talk sooner rather than later.”

Keith swallowed and put down his donut. “Oh. ok.” he sighed. “How will we start?”

“Like this.” lance turned slowly to keith, holding his gaze. “I really like you. Like, to a extent that when i see you i feel like i need CPR or a defibrillator, and it hurts to be in the same room as you, all the time. My drunk self may not have expressed that in the best way, but that’s how i feel.. And i think, maybe, you feel the same.”

Keith watched the glint of lances blue eyes, gauging some internal meter. “I do.” he groaned. “And it hurts just like you described, and sometimes i feel like i'd rather die than feel it again. But then- then you kissed me- and everything, everything felt  _ right _ . I know it's cheesy and cliche, but that’s the way it felt.”

Lance grinned like pidge. “That's  _ exactly _ how it felt. Holy shit, i'm so glad it wasn't just me.” He coughed awkwardly, hugging a little closer to keith. “I- i was wondering if you wanted to try again? I swear i won't throw up agai-mph!”

Keith cut him off with his lips.

They could barely move without crippling agony, but they made it work, moving only fractions, nudges of noses, shivers of fingers, flickers of eyelids, tiny gasping breaths. 

“HA!” a voice shouted. They jolted apart, immediately keeling over. 

“Pidge!” keith gasp-growled, holding his temples. The girl laughed, looming over them mercilessly, hunk grinning beside her.

“Caught in the act!” she shrieked. “Are you guys gonna stop sending each other lovesick looks whenever the other isn’t looking?”

Lance moaned deep in his chest, but managed to force out a few words. “Sorry pidge. I think it's just gonna get worse.”


End file.
